


The Angel of Farewell

by blueskyfire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Comfort/Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, Gay, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskyfire/pseuds/blueskyfire
Summary: After Dean Winchester loses his brother he feels his life no longer makes sense. He is slowly falling apart and blames himself for his younger brother’s death.Unable to accept what has happened he gets involved in something that goes beyond a simple mortal life.Because Dean Winchester finds out how to leap through time and to travel back to the past. However, for this he needs help. Supernatural help.TW: Mention of suicide!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

Death...

It comes for everyone, no exceptions...

It does not assort, it does not matter who it takes, it does not matter what life its victim would leave behind. It just simply takes you away.

It's just doing its job. We can’t blame it.  
Death accompany us to the afterlife or whatever thing we beilive in the moment. Yet death does not leave our loved ones here empty-handed, we leave plenty of sunny memories in their sore hearts. Thinking they will get used to our lack and with time their sorrow will just fade away as it happend with us when our last breath merged with a cold room's mournful silence. 

But what happens if we leave before our time comes? If we leave too early? What are we leaving behind?

Well, Sam left his brother behind.  
He left behind Dean Winchester. In a certain sense Dean Winchester is what we all leave behind: endless pain, deficit, confusion and the question: what should I have done differently?  
As if it had happened without any sign, all of a sudden. Like the first thunder lightning on a light summer evening. The white light blinds, does not spare anyone and only after that will the sky pound loudly. Then silence, terrible silence and darkness that is to come. Nobody dares to speak.  


The dark blonde man cleared his throat as he stepped into this black silence. He was hoping that this act will help him to clear away his gathered tears in the back of his throat. Which have been gathered there for long days. Even though he clasped his hands close in front of him, the tremor could not be dampened. The crumpled paper was rattling between his fingers. His balck shoes creaked occasionally as they touched the cold curch parquet as he stepped forward a little more. He still lowered his head facing the glossy ground. For a second he needed to close his eyes to try to calm his fast and strong heartbeat somewhat. Only a few distant sniffs and a dull cough echoed in the spacious room. Understanding, regretful, tear-soaked gazes watched Dean. He hated being in the center of attention, especially since he knew everyone felt sorry for him but this time he could not escape anywhere. He was standing there alone in front of the rows of benches and just felt ungodly lonely and weak. He took a deep breath and raised his head, he looked at the mourning people in front of him and saw Eileen in the first row. Her features were full of pain. She forced an encouraging smile but as she did so, another tear rolled down her face, which she quickly wiped away from her pale skin. This scene once again pushed Dean to the edge of crying but he knew he needed to be strong. It felt like everyone -even the priest himself- is waiting for his speech, which will then give them dissolution, free them from their immeasurable pain.

"So I..." He began quietly. He swallowed hard which was another attempt to overcome tears but they only pushed themselves forward sharply. Dean slowly turned the paper toward himself so he could see the letters that he wrote down the night before. The farewell text. He just wasn't ready for that his hands were shaking badly. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to Sammy. In his head he was still tihinkg that if he goes home after this Sam will be waiting for him and then he can tell him how horribly boring the funeral was. Dean had to keep reminding himself that he was no more, that this was his little brother's funeral and he was lying in that damn coffin. The Sam who got new Metallica records for him this Christmas... The Sam who asked his Eileen to marry him a few months ago... The Sam who seemed so cheerful and carefree. He was no more, just disappeared from one minute to the next.

"Sam, so he..." Not even his name sounded inside the chilled building as it used to be. It was strange and cold. A tear finally ran down Dean's face, he was no longer able to stifle them. The drop fell to the surface of the paper. The sentences on it didn't make any sense to Dean anymore. He looked away anxiously.

"Sorry" His voice choked up and he began to hurry toward the curch door between the rows of benches. The back of his black jacket floated in his hurried footsteps. Tears were already streaming down his freckled face. He didn't stop until he reached the entrance of the curch. Then he stormed out the open door. The whole world was spinning with him as he finally got outside and he just kept trying to suppress his sobs, which were about to break. He looked up at the stormy sky, watching the gray clouds among the bald branches. He tried to reassure himself in this way. Dean's breathing was irregular as she walked up and down dizzily through the barren grass.

"Dean! Dean!" He heard the characteristic tone from behind him. Moments later, the owner of the voice touched his shoulder gently. Dean turned slowly to her.

"I'm so sorry Eileen... I can't do this." He shook his head consciously avoiding eye contact with his brother's bride. He didn't wanted her to see his tear-covered face. It only made him feel even weaker when she saw it too and he knew he needed to be seem strong now. Eileen touched her fingers to her chin and then lifted them towards Dean.

"What are you thanking me for? I screwed up the whole thing, I can't even do this little thing for him." The man nervously wiped away his stray tears. Eileen firmly grabbed Dean's face with her soft hands.

"Because you tried. It's okay if you can't do it now. It is very difficult for everyone and the wound is still fresh and hurts like hell." Eileen spoke and before she started crying herself she hugged Dean tightly. Dean immediately wrapped his arms around the seemingly fragile woman. Seeing the cheerful, humorous Eileen that way was not easy for him either. They were both terribly worn out by this period. 

" You know you could come over sometimes. I could bake pie or something." She said softly, then stepped away from Dean to observe his response by studying the movement of his lips.

"It would be nice." Dean smiled falsely.

"Do you know what helps me in these times?" She folded her arms in front of her chest. "Praying" She added.

"You know I'm not religious." Dean raised his eyebrows reminding Eileen.

"You can start with something else if God were too much for you at first." 

She touched both her shoulders as part of a sign unknown to Dean. Then she fluttered two in front of her with his hands, imitating small wings. The man looked at her blankly, he hadn't seen it before.

"Angels" Eileen explained her earlier movements.

"I didn’t even know it's a thing to pray to them too." 

"You can pray to anyone and for anyone Dean. They listen, even if you don't believe in it. But now you should go home and just take a nap! I'll stay here." With one palm, Eileen smoothed Dean's tormented face as a kind of goodbye. Dean watched Eileen's figure walking toward the curch for a while then he decided maybe it would really be better to head home. Still with a heart full of pain, he set off on the road alone. He walked straight to his Impala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my mistakes English is not my first language. So this story is more like a practice and jus for fun thing. (If we can call it fun :,D)


	2. Buried Sky

The day has come.

Sam Winchester's body was buried permanently, was put to final rest that day. From that cold January day on, earth covered his young, once shining eyes. The world could no longer see his lovely smile. His hair, which had grown long, could no longer be stretched by the growling Eileen, while she was standing on the edge of the bathtub. His indignant voice would no longer run across Dean's house, questioning him where did the last slice of chocolate cake go. That was the day for Dean to truly say goodbye to his brother. However, that cruel feeling of tension had gripped the man’s heart as a distraction since the funeral mass. Black grains of mourning appeared in his house where Dean was just walking aimlessly, like a stray ghost who could not find his place in this life anymore. Faded and exhausted, he was just walking around in a gray furry robe covering a T-shirt and his underpants. Holding a mug full of steaming coffee in his still trembling hands. Holding the mug he got from Sammy.

"The world’s biggest diva"  
A bittersweet smile appeared on his face as he watched the words on the blue object. Within minutes, his features were again distorted into a painful expression as he turned in the kitchen and immediately faced the windows of the hall, which was not separated from the kitchen with the walls. The sun was just rising, the time was around seven o'clock in the morning, but the click of the hours no longer symbolized anything to Dean.That’s why he didn’t really realize that he only had around two hours of sleep per day for a while now. The whole apartment was filled with orange and golden light. It flowed heavily through the windows, yet smoothly and warmly smoothed his skin. Ruthlessly planted in him the idea that Sam could not witness this beautiful moment of the day either. As the light shone on Dean's summer green eyes it painted quite a yellowish hue to them. This period of the day brought magical colors to the world, but Dean still felt dull, almost translucent. He felt like all the beauty of life just flowed through him. He lost his senses. He was unable to see the beautiful things.  
After all, the sun also sets at the end of the day.  
The light also dies when the night comes.  
Everything passes.  
So whatever happened around him reminded him of Sam and that he was no longer with him.  
On the contrary, it was as if he had always heard his laughter as a distant noise from upstairs, as if at any moment he could call him because there was something wrong with that bad old Opel of his again.  
But the truth was, there was just silence everywhere. Aching silence.

That's how Dean's lonely days passed. He was waiting for something he knew would never happen again. Frosty drops of water ran briskly across the freckled face toward the bathroom tiles as Dean reached for a towel to wipe them away with it. After cleaning his face he began to study his features in the mirror. He was different, he looked completely different like a shadow of his past self. He looked broken and extremely tired, as evidenced by the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't even shaved in a long time. There was no question that he had neglected himself. It was time to get himself together, at least externally for the funeral. He had to keep the illusion of being strong, he had to do it for everyone. At first, however, he needed some more time before the ceremony. He picked up the shaving foam and sat down with it in his hand on the edge of the bathtub. Leaning on his laps, he buried his face in his free palm as the wave of sobs hit him.

The only problem was that Dean didn't have time to be strong for himself. His soul was shattered. Every moment he spent soberly or just awake felt like as if a huge sharp dagger stood out of his chest. He was bleeding out slowly. 

***  


The winter breeze rubbed against the standing black figures. It also played easily with Eileen's long brown locks as she stepped closer to the coffin before they started lowering it. The sunlight pounded gold threads into Dean's dark blonde short hair as well as he stepped beside Eileen. She gave a kiss to her fingers and then touched the glossy brown coffin with them. Cold tears rolled down her pale face as she closed her eyes. Dean watched Eileen's farewell with his lips open, frozen by the pain that dominated his whole body.

“Goodbye Sam!” Eileen whispered. Some of the people around them were wheeping, but Dean and Eileen had long ruled everyone out.

“We will miss you Sammy.” Dean swallowed hard and placed his palm on the slippery surface. His whole chest was filled with pure pain. It was as if all the memories he had of Sam had fluttered before his eyes with this touch. From the very first to the very last. The life of Sam Winchester was only a series of memories left in his loved ones. He truly lived on like this, happily and self-forgetfully as he was before all bad things.

Slowly, his final resting place was lowered to the ground.  
Eileen buried her crying face in Dean's black leather jacket. Dean, on the other hand, couldn't take his eyes off the coffin. He clenched his jaw tightly, watching frozen, emotions playing only on his face, the ones that ruthlessly besieged his heart inside. A single stray drop of tear left his eyes, then rolled across his skin. Only after this he could turn his head away and close his eyes tightly, then press a kiss into Eileen's hair. He hid there in Eilleens hair, he hid his fragility and his weakness there.

And just like this Sam Winchester was gone. He finally came to rest and at the same time became part of everything in the world of Dean and Eileen. He became the blue sky, the warming ray of the early dawns, the distant flame of the peaceful lights left from Christmas. Sam lived on as a memory in the present, in the present of his family.

***

Dean bitten the pizza reluctantly as if it had no taste, even though Eileen had ordered it from the best pizzeria in the area. Meanwhile, he looked around in the kitchen. All life and color was extinct from this house as well, Sam took the joys of life with him. He only left behind gray empty days for those who stayed here. Dean's tired green gaze wandered to the refrigerator; the pictures of them were still smiling at him on the refrigerator door. These were happy memories, yet it hurt to see them after all what happened. Dean studied them jealously. He envied their happy ignorance. There was Sammy’s graduation ceremony, Sam’s first picture with Eileen, the first Christmas the three of them spent together and some lovely summer photos. It all seemed so distant, making Dean feel as if Sam had been gone for years.

“Sam never liked big gatherings” Eileen entered the room with a green envelope in her hand. It was pain and nostalgia that made her smile.  
“I don’t think he wanted anyone other than the close family to be there at his funeral” Dean laughed weakly. Sam's words echoed in his head as he complained that everyone except Dean and Eileen was getting on his nerves. 

“It’s yours Dean.” Eileen handed over the unopened envelope. Indeed, his name was on it, it was Sam’s writing. Dean took the green paper a little hesitantly, then looked up questioningly at Eileen who was standing next to the table. Then he signaled a simple question to her, ending a series of moves by pointing to the envelope.

“A letter from Sam.” Associated words with her own hand gestures as an answer to Dean’s unspoken question. Even the way Eileen's hands spelled her brother's name could cause the man dull pain.

“I can’t do it yet.” The dirty blond man shook his head and handed back the farewell letter. 

“You don't have to read it yet.” Eileen pushed Dean's hand away.

“When you are ready for it you read it.” She patted the man's shoulder reassuringly.

“Did you get one too?” Dean asked back, looking more closely at the “legacy”.

“Of course!” Eileen smiled. Dean nodded and hid the letter inside his leather jacket so he could return to his pizza. The women pulled out the chair at the opposite side of the table without further ado, then took a seat. Then began to study her fiancé's brother, wondering. There was no question how much he wasn’t like his old self. He had been so lost since Sam wasn’t with them. The Dean who danced alone to Scorpions songs in the car mechanic workshop when no one saw him, the Dean, who had a flirtatious compliment to every woman, this Dean no longer existed. Carefree Dean, along with Sam, was lost somewhere in the past. Eileen wasn't sure if this was a temporary condition or she really lost one of her best friends permanently. She was aware that she had to keep him in countenance as Dean did it to her. Eileen saw it as her mission to get both of them back on their feet slowly, as far as was feasible after what had happened. 

“Have you tried it?” Eileen's question came, breaking the short silence between them. With a mouth full, Dean caught her eye in confusion. She laughed softly and briefly at the sight the man provided. Just like a freckled little hamster.

“What?” Inquired, chewing on the slice of pepperoni pizza.

“Praying.” Eileen put her hands together in front of her. Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Leave me with this holy crap!” 

“Dean!” Eileen pushed the disrespectful man's shoulder angrily. Dean, not even looking at the women, in front of his chest he began to draw circles in the air with his thumb held up. Every move of apology has burned into his brain, he has had the opportunity to practice over the years.

“Just try it for me!” Eileen begged. The green eyed man closed his eyes with a sigh.

“I don't even know to who and how to pray.” He finally caved in. 

“I’ll help you!” Eileen smiled excitedly. In her brown eyes, slightly swollen by the lot of crying, after a long time, a small sign of joy shone again.

x

“Are you sure this is how it works?” Dean looked at Eileen uncertainly. 

“This is something we can start with…” Eileen shrugged her shoulders as she turned back to the computer. Leaning on the back of the chair, Dean watched Eileen's movements. 

“Did you find out that God exists by completing a quiz too?” Dean asked amusedly. Since Eileen didn't pay attention to him, he didn't get an answer to his slightly evil question. After a short pause, he finally poked her shoulder, so she was already paying attention to him.

“It doesn’t seem too professional to do it this way. This is a lame quiz on the internet of who your guardian angel is based on which is your favorite food… Are you serious Eileen?” Dean tilted his head sideways, questioning Eileen.

“Maybe you’re right…” Eileen pressed her baby pink lips together and turned to the screen again, which had a not-so-authentic quiz page open on it. 

“I don’t know much about angels, but I do know something about a couple of them. I am also new to this whole religion thing. But I know that every angel is an angel of something…” She began to introduce Dean to the world of heaven, meanwhile opened a new window to start searching. The green-eyed listened curiously to Eileen's line of thought. 

The woman slowly typed a letter on the keyboard. G appeared in the viewfinder, but was quickly erased.

“No, Gabriel is not the one we are looking for. I remember there was an angel also called the angel of tears and loneliness. I read about him once…”

Eileen typed in a C and this time continued more resolutely.

Castiel.

“That's it! He is what we need! You call him if you feel you have lost all hope and he will give you a sign on how to continue or something like that.” Eileen pressed search and the results confirmed her words. Dean watched the various depictions and descriptions of the angel thoughtfully.

“So, what do you think?” Eileen inquired a little more excitedly, looking at Dean's greens again. The man still studied the pictures. But to be honest, he still didn’t feel like it was a thing for him, this whole angels, God and praying thing. He was never a believer, he even considered himself as an atheist. He thought these were just silly old tales that people were able to believe in even these days. However, Eileen finally didn’t sit in front of him with that tired heartbreaking figure and he thought by this he had already won. Seeing his brother's fiancée just a little bit happy was a big win for him.

“I don’t know…”

“Just try it for me!” Eileen begged him again, with big puppy eyes.

“Ok. Fine. Why not? Worth a try.” Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“You’ll see it will help, obviously this doesn't bring Sam back, but it could be something to hold onto in these trying times.” Eileen smiled. She was proud to have achieved this with the always skeptical man.

“Castiel” He pronounced the name uncertainly and looked at the depiction of the angel in the armor with huge white wings, yet resembling a human being.

“This is the biggest bullshit.” He whispered as Eileen turned away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the figure of Castiel is based on the story of Archangel Cassiel here in this story.  
> So there may be some differences in the past between Castiels origin story in the show and in my story.


End file.
